Category Archives: Journal

Foods I Hate

People tend to impose their tastes on others, outrageously insulted that you would dare dislike something they find so delicious or popular. They simply can’t understand why you won’t change your mind, taste buds, or every fiber of your being to enjoy what they enjoy. This is especially visceral when it comes to foodstuffs, as every foodie populist or connoisseur elitist has a seemingly intractable opinions of how flavinoids should affect everybody. Their indignance, I fear at times, borders on the psychopathic; such that someday some fascist may round up all the non-Brussel-sprout-eaters and march them into the death camps once and for all.

A little hyperbolic, sure, but I prefer to arrive at my own irrational choices, thank you. Harmless and meaningless, they are not dictated by any ideological preference (such as vegans or locavores) nor any allergy (such as gluten-free or nuts). Speaking of nuts, one reason people may not take kindly to your opinions may be because they feel it attacks or denigrates the validity of their own, or rejects them personally. Weak.

So over time, my tastes have refined and/or expanded; where I once refused vegetables, I now enjoy the occasional salad, where I once despised the taste of beer I have since acclimated to it, and where I once went for the spiciest of wings on the menu, I now prefer to actually taste my food.

Here are my top five most despised flavors, in descending order.

Onions

onions

Onions definitely hold a special place of hatred in my heart.. or whatever organ determines hate.. probably the gall bladder.

I’ve never been partial to them, despite the insistence of others, and their existence in just about every Goddamned recipe. I don’t know if it’s their simultaneously slimy-and-crunchy consistency, their pungency, or their eye-wateringly badness, I just can’t do it. Sure, if someone cooks me something, I won’t be so ungracious as to refuse them, but neither will I hesitate to wait the extra twenty minutes to get my Crave Case without onions.

My total stubbornness may have descended from my days working at the Sandwich Shoppe, as a rookie Sandwichsmithee (long before holding the title of Patron Saint of Sandwichmaking) I was relegated the stenchy task of peeling and slicing 1-2 buckets of these nasty, noxious nuggets.

Strangely, the onion’s erstwhile cousin, garlic, has got to be in my top five foods, if not number one of all time. All time! Go figure.

Licorice

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I find black licorice disagreeable in particular (racist). Its status as candy is dubious, and its relationship to red licorice is unfortunate. I’m not a big fan of either, but while I could stomach the red vines, I shudder at the thought of that slick, twisted ebony foulness reaching my mouth. This hereditary abhorrence comes down from my grandmother, but I know from talking to people that licorice of any kind is not a commonly well-liked food. Most people avoid anything but the red stuff, and even then do not hurry to its defense. Still, you will meet the occasional weirdo who proselytizes a fervent dedication to black licorice. Shun them.

COFFEE

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So many people on the planet adore coffee, sometimes I feel like “Rowdy” Roddy Piper in They Live! My father used to make and drink an entire pot of coffee while performing his morning routine, then make another to take with him in a thermos on the way to work, only to drink Lord knows how much while at work. I’ve been made to understand that this is not exactly abnormal for coffeeholics. I find no small irony in the idea of waking up at four in the morning to put a pot of wretched black coffee on in order to get the caffeine necessary to begin the day. And apparently, I’m the crazy one.

I find coffee to be unremittingly bitter, massively gaseous, and biliously vile. It’s dark aroma of complex nuttiness and vaporous undertones of earthiness can only be described in a single word for me: ‘bletch!’

The residue it leaves in my mouth whenever I have given in to peer insistence and tried a new variety (‘you just haven’t tried the right kind, yet!) is parallelled only by my equal and appropriate hatred of the word ‘residue.’

Don’t mistake me, I do enjoy caffeine. Whatever life expectancy and health benefits I would have derived from denying myself coffee have been reasonably obliterated by my love of soda.

Mint

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While the breath fresheners, tooth whiteners, and pillow adorners of the world have pushed this idea of ‘minty freshness’ on us, I recoil in frustration. I try to find alternatives; fruity gum, orange toothpaste, cinnamon mouthwash, or even just a shiny new apple a day. But the ubiquitous nature of nature’s fresh-maker makes me feel… not so fresh.

I’ve been told, as with many of the items on this list, that it is an acquired taste. But why bother acquiring a taste you find so distasteful?

I don’t relish the biting sting or mouthy leafiness of mint, and I can’t believe that some poor, misguided fools would pair it with chocolate, ice cream or Jell-O. Ridiculous. Idiotic. Fucking pathetic.

Kill it with fire.

ALMONDS

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Nuts are one of those types of foods people can never seem to agree on. Some people hate the hazelnuts and love walnuts, while others swear by brazil nuts and eschew chestnuts. Diversity in opinion abounds regarding pine nuts, pecans and pistachios, whereas the fatty macadamia is often heaped with adulation. We all seem to agree on cashews and peanuts, which are not really nuts but legumes. Allergies notwithstanding.

Almonds are the devil.

Not only is it a shameful slap in the face of one of history’s greatest American heroes, George Washington Carver, but also one of mankind’s oldest foes. Almonds were originally toxic to our mortal form, synthesizing as cyanide in our frail bodies. Only through random genetic mutation and careful horticultural selection were the dangerous and evil pods tamed to their present form. Seething  in their dry bitterness, the wrinkled old malefactors silently await their revenge, encroaching and infesting every innocent salad and unwitting bridge mix.

It is only a matter of time before they learn to kill again.

DISHonorable Mention: Circus Peanuts

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Circus peanuts, (more commonly known as ‘WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS SHIT??’) are not an official list item of my Most Hated Foods, based solely on the technicality that they are not actually food. Owed the singular distinction of being the only consumable more disliked by humanity than ‘Candy Corn’, it shares with it the same inexplicably inaccurate naming. Despite being vaguely molded to look like a moldy old peanut, they are the same pale orange as some medical scrubs, PAAS eggs, or weird cardboard, all of which adequately give you an idea as to their flavor as well.

You can chew it, but it doesn’t ever get chewed.

Somehow, this material was marketed to children by perverted sadists as something they should put in their bodies. Luckily, no child will willingly eat them, and only 90-year-old great-grandmothers find them palatable, out of some misplaced sense of nostalgia. Back during the Depression Era, you see, you either ate cardboard or you starved.

More astoundingly, if you cut them into tiny shapes and then douse them in milk with cereal, they become tolerable, downright edible if artificially flavored somehow.

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Of course, we all have our preferences to varying degrees. There are certainly dishes and flavor combos that I find undesirable or even repellant as well, and I must confess that I’ve not much a sweet tooth. I don’t indulge in chocolate for chocolate’s sake, but rather as a trace or hint combined with some other culinary creation. All in all, you’d find me a fairly easy person to order pizza with, amenable as I am to everything from pepperoni and sausage to pineapple and anchovies. I’ve a weakness for savory snacks and filling proteins, rich smoothies and light pastries. I’m as open-minded as they come, and in all honesty will not insult my host should they unknowingly happen an inclusion of those foods I hate.

But oh, how I fucking hate them.

Community Driven

Who doesn’t love communities? Both political parties pander to our nationalistic pride, but this isn’t even specific enough. They try to meet us on our local level, we all need to act local, it’s the local ballot initiatives that matter, etc…

Communities make up such an important part of my identity that if someone were so inclined, they could probably track me online, stalk me in real life, and crack my secret identity based on my affiliations, to varying degrees.

The radio station I volunteer my time for, Mutiny Radio, is organized as a collective. I joined meetup groups based on my interests in journalism, skepticism, psychedelics… I’ve joined book clubs, study groups, online classes and forums… My financial institution of choice is a credit union instead of a bank.

In high school I worked for a community local access station, I joined the drama club, the improv group, the newspaper, the art club, and sat in on many others. The number of writing and comedy groups I’ve been in only grew after that.

There are plenty of other ways to do this besides just reading, eating, supporting, thinking, acting and voting local:

  • Move where the people are neighborly, or seriously get to know neighbors.
  • Divorce (as best as possible) from corporations and credit cards, using co-ops and credit unions.
  • Refuse to join faceless, soulless political parties.
  • Prefer to work for non-profits.
  • Eat and drink where they know your name.

I enjoy a sense of belonging, and don’t we all? But I also relish the networked, communal resources, even intangible ones like help, advice, ideas or connections.  This shouldn’t be some arbitrary and impersonal affiliation like Republican or Fundamentalist Christian. And while you should explore and respect your local geography, we also know that we live in a globalizing society. Online social networking is great, but shouldn’t supplant your physical relationships, instead allow both to blend more smoothly. Just as the world and web blur the distinctions between fiction and reality (after all, society both exists and doesn’t exist).

Even Ghandi was wrong to shun relationships, to the detriment of his own family.

Communities can be close-knot and vast at the same time, so long as they are still personal and inviting. They not only offer the ego a satisfying succor of belonging, but purpose, direction, opportunities, and a wider, more worldly view of this thing called the human condition. You just have to strike a balance between being overwhelmed and underwhelmed, unfulfilled and happily fulfilling.

The Scrolls

The scroll of a blog is a decent metaphor for the changing eras of your life.

Comparisons are Odious

After that long term emotionally abusive relationship, my rebound summer fling was both exciting and reinvigorating. we both knew it was temporary going in, so we’re keeping it cool now and just seeing what happens.

Brother from another Mother (Earth)

I met a doppelgänger of mine from a parallel dimension today on my lunch break. He didn’t explain how he managed to end up in our worldline (it never came up, I only get an hour!) but it did become evident fairly quickly that I was the evil one for several reasons, not the least of which being that he DIDN’T have a beard.

We spoke the same language, though his accent was indescribably different, and we had trouble communicating on some odd, conceptual level. He was far more convivial.

He told me that in his dimension, the rich routinely philanthropize, so much so that there are no destitute or super-rich classes, safe synthetic meats ensure delicious bacon without any animals being tortured, money we would spend on guns and bombs are going towards cancer and free energy research, politicians argue over the most logical and efficient ways to serve the weak and sick, and Adolf Hitler was only a slightly renowned drag entertainer.

He was shocked to discover that our media glorifies violence, but is also frustratingly both perversely obsessed and shamefully repressed when it comes to sex. He seemed to think the internet was a good sign for us, something they have had since the nineteen-twenties. They have had jazz music since the seventeenth century.

All of the water fountains shoot cream soda, as they have found the cures for both diabetes and obesity, or as they archaically remember them, “diabesity.”

There is free health care, but they are not a socialist dictatorship. In their free market economy, the affluent volunteered to pay the higher taxes that they can afford, and every corporation profit-shares with their employees.

When I asked about the Third World he replied that yes, both of our planets were the third from the sun, but being the homeworld, Earth was simply more populated than the solar system’s colonies. I couldn’t bring myself to clarify the question.

He failed to check out the passing perfectly plump posterior of an attractive female, which made me consider my double was a little light-in-the-loafers, but he assured me that in his utopian reality, nearly everyone is bisexual at least at some point in their lives, that they simply don’t view the opposite sex as objects, and that additionally all elected officials are cannabis-smoking voluntary-eunuchs.

There are no suicide bombings or underaged, oversexed Disney pop divas.

Jimi Hendrix is alive and well.

Christianity exists there, but is more of a self-reflective non-judgmental philosophical set of ideals meant to help and love each other, than the self-righteous violent rhetoric meant to control and degrade each other that it is on our plane.

People say thank you, acknowledge each other, and don’t complain when they agree to help one another move.

People are allowed to experiment with altered brain states up to and including death, without governmental criminalisation.

The Cold War ended nearly the moment it began, with heartfelt letters of apology and a good, stiff drink or two.

Pie is the same.

Fascinated by each other’s cultures and technologies, we set a lunch date for tomorrow. I intend to ask him about world peace, the brotherhood of man, and the exact manner of his dimensional travel. Then I am going to kill him, shave my beard and take his place

To you, my otherworldly friend:

A trip down memory link

Oh, I couldn’t go an ENTIRE YEAR without you, LJ! But I almost did.

I blame the future. Inexorably roiling, rolling, crushing down on us like the accumulation of so many dirty, unclean… socks?

Look up a few things on the internet from your past. Think about:
*The person you were back then, compared to this person you are at this place now.
*How has your philosophical outlook on the world changed?
*Can you even be said to be the same person, if most of your bodily cells have been replaced, your mind totally (hopefully!) altered, the pulses of your brain rerouted, and the electrons of the World Wide Web that preserve that former you replaced by exact duplicates JUST AS SOON AS they bolted into existence in the first place!
*Are old pictures and posts of your friends the same people?
*What is your proudest moment and why?
*What is your most shameful moment and why? Have you left it recorded? You should, this is arguably more important than the last. Never throw away the shittiest parts of yourself. You’re only deluding and depressing the future you, looking back for comparison.
*Now, slightly less ignorant than you were then, are you equally less blissful? Or about the same? Can you even remember?
*Are your frames of reference so changed that they are too errant a slide rule to use with any degree of accuracy?
*Do the posts or pictures by your friends muckrake some nearly-foreign memory? Why is it so alien to you? Why was it so important to them, but you nearly forgot it? Check that, you DID forget it, but for this little exercise.
*Are there things from Ye Internet of Olde that you remember that no longer exist? Old forums, pics, joke sites, geocities pages, references, or perhaps video before video… Why do you remember them? Why were they important enough? Why are they gone?
*Would you go back to that antiquated system of tubes? For a day, a week, a year?
*What if you had to give up all the memes and references you now know the internet has produced? (Maybe especially then)
*How did you think of the world back then, through the lens of technology at that point? Frustrated at the slowness of dial-up? The poor quality of pictures? The difficulties of such rudimentary interglobal communication? Has the alleviation of your frustration been at equal pace with the rapid development of these technologies?
*Perhaps you were nonetheless optimistic; so many sharing common interests, showcasing new ideas and concepts, embracing both simple quirks and commodities as well as new and complex modern issues,
larger and larger communities reaching out, exploding, connecting their wildly spinning randomly splitting tendrils with the whiplash of rubber tautness, old world modalities slowly dying, withering spent and useless facing the hydra.

NOW! QUICK!

Think about the future.

And go to bed.

Where can I find some people worth my time?

Mortal humans bore me so.

I honestly believe that people become less and less interesting as they grow older. In elementary school, everyone is gross and weird and unique and cool. Then some of them straighten up in middle school to the standards that they believe will get them the most social acceptance and least ridicule. The same goes for high school, but then there’s also the opposite sex and prospective colleges to worry about. And so many once fascinating creatures that made it that long into university, then staunchly reform for the suitable and formal job market, go corporate, and allow their inner child to atrophy. If they’re boring and lucky enough, then they’ll get enough boring corporate endorsements to make it big, and boring social acceptance to be renowned for being socially acceptable, and get boring promotions and meet a boring partner and build a boring life with a boring family and non-noteworthy events in predictable settings wholly and utterly without adventure, whimsy, absurdity, awesomeness or weirdness. They won’t get interesting again until they’re so old that shitting their pants is no longer an embarrassing prospect.

Nonexistent friend requests are emailed to me in droves on a nearly daily basis, from women with exotic and enticing names like ‘Phillis’ and ‘Agatha’.. whoo man! Break out the Geritol and the Vicks Vaporub, Agatha and Phillis are coming over to read detective fiction and play CANASTA! Alas, women as ideal as this do not exist, as evidenced by the stubborn inability of the Myspace inbox and the notifications it sends to my regular email to corroborate.

Understanding being nothing else, but conception caused by Speech.

The stakes were high, with arbitrary considerations of ‘law’ and ‘justice’ and ‘order’ strained to their definition points. Pulling this single lynchpin, this keystone, this golden spike… might derail a pivotal international plot to highjack all finance, commerce, private ownership, an election, choice, the ability to make total war… the very essence and being of the human race.

Hard was the task before me, to truly understand the confederacy of ubiquitous dark forces, at the most pragmatic moment, in order to graft with them fully, meld slowly as the creaking patient tree amongst the artificiality of a steel-ringing chain-link fence. Grease, moisture, pressure, unbearable turmoil, and then dry-rot set in, leaving only that aperture from whence one entered, shattering the bloated blighted blemishes from their torpid comfort. Stirring and dissolving, hacking away at each other searching for their common enemy, long since gone slinking into the night. Those who remained were easy pickins, but for their evolved sense of survival atop the trash heap, and amalgamation of super-science and evil.

Caught full blast during this janitorial duty unawares by just such frenetic fanatical foes, entrenched in their last ditch fraternity of hostility and subatomic-particle-rearranger ray set to 11, I strained to regain composure, nay, composition, in an all-out knock-down knuckle-dragging denial of all things physical, and a few illicit drugs as well.

It was then that I stared foully deep into the unending maw of universal truth; it was, as awfulness goes, inversely proportionate to the awesomeness of cunnilingus.

O what did I learn, children, and how does simple universal matter, or organic brain cells, or inferior English speech translate it now?

“To understand this for sense it is not required that a man should be a geometrician or a logician, but that he should be mad.”

Necessity dictates that so being is so, so being is so. This so being, being so, is being so also so being? Man, reduced to his natural state, is mere animal. That doesn’t say much for man, but it certainly doesn’t say much for animal.

“The privilege of absurdity; to which no living creature is subject but man only.”

I’ve had people ask me if what I write about in my blogs is ‘true.’ My eyes then glimmer go dinner-plate wide as I stand on shaky legs and pound a fist into the air, rapaciously demanding to know where these people on the bus get off following me around and reading my blogs, and who the fuck they think THEY are.

Honesty and truth: I can honestly proclaim to believe something that isn’t true, if I honestly didn’t know that it wasn’t true. I can dishonestly report a set of truthful facts. If I attempt to be honest, I am good. If I attempt to be dishonest, I am bad. Goodness is contingent on honesty, which leaves truth mutually explusive, which means that truth can very well be evil. It’s better to be any kind of honest than an evil kind of truthful. So then the BEST kind of honesty doesn’t reflect a truthful truth at all. Honest.

“Such truth as opposeth no man’s profit nor pleasure is to all men welcome.”

When I read about the famous words of powerful leaders from around the world, something moving in their speech strikes me. Specifically, conjunctions.
“They’ve now got it.” “As you so choose it.” “Seeing as there is…” If you then speak as such, you’ll soon become a world leader and douchebag both.

“Words are wise men’s counters, they do but reckon by them; but they are the money of fools, that value them by the authority of an Aristotle, a Cicero, or a Thomas, or any other doctor whatsoever, if but a man.”

Acid won’t do anything for you that being stuck under a boulder for a few days in the mountains can’t also. One is just slightly more portable than the other.

“In the state of nature, Profit is the measure of Right.”

I’m not proud of what happened then, as chemistry on a first-name-nucleotide basis and then consciousness slowly wound back into the realm of what can only be assumed to have been a pre-existing condition of reality. I did what had to be done, in that it is what has already happened in the temporal existence of things, it came to be so it had to be, and somewhat vice-versa. Suffice it to say I triumphed over evil yet again.

But at what price?

“I put for a general inclination of all mankind a perpetual and restless desire of power after power, that ceaseth only in death.”

Fraught With Peril

Where has our valiant (and at that quite salient) hero been O these past few months? Bored or boycotting Myspace? In a politically-charged controversial coma/self-induced media blackout/circus? Zoning out listening to late 60’s/early 70’s Psychedelia? Alcoholics Anonymous?  Perhaps he hadn’t gone anywhere, but simply skipped ahead in what you myopically call the ‘timeline,’ but what he prefers to call his own ‘Choose Your Own Adventure Novel.’

I don’t think my mild-mannered employers would have mild-minded that too much at all! And in these engrossing times, the Revengerists have seen every goal completed quietly, thoroughly, awesomely (needless to say), and without the ostentation of one ‘Will Ferrell.’ Having fulfilled its purpOses, and with a lease paid through to 2012, (as the Mayans foretold: ‘yea when all leases shall summarily end’), the Revengerists compound sits, secure and yet absolutely vacant. All but for the occasional janitor, tour group, haunted spirit (built upon a Civil War battleground as it is), or junior members who don’t check their text messages lost in its expansive labrynthine corridors, it echoes still in the night, or the day… depending on the time… that it is… when.. it echoes…

I can tell you one thing, I definitely did not go to Studio 54.

Now, having uncovered an insidious plot of the powers that be effecting the very atoms that make up the whole of our being, I go where none may accompany me. No beloved sidekick, grizzled old vizier, or that cute couch-surfing chick who wanted me to help her with her novel… No. Through a combination of radical research and development, subversive culture-jamming, motivational speaking courses and my uncanny powers of antiphysics, only I can prevail against this slithering hidden evil. As it was writ in Ancient Sumeria, so shall it make for a most excellent riveting dramatic speech of departure…

The Demon of Thought
I Fought, But Not
Armed With Sword or Rapier
With Zeal I Sought and
Peril Fraught, I Brought
His End with Pen and Paper

Everything is nice in Smileyland; and when it isn’t, they kill it with their lasers. Something is rotten in the state of Smileyland.

What up, LJ?

Things have been so hectic on this coast, I never write a blog. The closest I get are the required weekly playlist postings and monthly rants for the radio station’s website. What’s that? ‘What radio station’, you say? Why that would be Pirate Cat radio 87.9, and here is my show – http://www.piratecatradio.com/playlist.php?dj=strange. You can listen live on the site, and hopefully soon the damn podcasts for my show will be up. If not, c’est la merde.

This also eats a lot of my time, if anyone has any interest…

I’m trying to cut back, and I’m usually playing Halo 3 until something better comes along. Sigh.

I’m 24 and trying to figure out what excites me in life. I guess, just staying busy!

If anyone has any good ideas on how to build a middle-of-the-night pirate radio audience, hit me up.

And so it goes.